fossilised | military mistletoe

military mistletoe

As much as Tony loved to travel, he preferred to do it in a private charter jet or, at least, in first class. The Army didn’t seem to understand the importance of his comfort, however, nor did they stop to think that a civilian might not want to be shoved into a jumpseat with fifteen of their finest unwashed masses. He appreciated the escort, considering where they were going for the demonstration of a new smart shell he’d developed in hopes of gaining a better foothold on defense contracts with the Defense Department, but he wasn’t sure that these men had showered much in the last few days.

Despite his general brilliance, Tony was more showman than he was R&D expert. That wasn’t because he lacked engineering genius, but because he couldn’t do everything. Hiring the best and the brightest to work for him only actually worked for him if he could be the face of the company and sell their products.

Sure. He dabbled. But dabbling didn’t keep a few hundred people employed and a technology business afloat. Just ask Zuckerberg. Or those idiots that sold Instagram to Zuckerberg. Or Google.

The plane rumbled beneath him as the pilots started take off sequences and Tony tugged on his restraints with a mix of mild dread. It didn’t get any better when one of the buckles popped loose either.

The man could create stuff out of 50s science fiction but he couldn’t get the belts to work? He cursed under his breath and fumbled with the straps.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bucky has nothing to fear for Tony’s sake. The moment he stopped vomiting and was safe, Tont crouched down next to him and, as if he was a big dog, wrapped his arms around his neck and held him close. The net was placed on the table, the most delicate portion of the whole ensemble that it was, and the arm ignored for now.

It wouldn’t be damaged. Bucky could have another go at it later.

Babysteps.

“I’ve got you. You’re all right.”

He wasn’t sure what had caused the anxiety but they’d figure it out. All he knew was that it worked. Physically. The rest would be the harder part. He’d just have to make sure to see Bucky through it.

Bucky didn't even consider what he was doing, he just leaned into Tony as if the man was his lifebelt in the middle of a choppy ocean, pushing his sweaty forehead into Tony's chest and exhaling a very ragged breath.

It took almost ten full minutes for him to calm down enough to regain his sense of self, and no longer just be a ball of adrenaline and terror, unable to do anything but exist in the moment and try and keep his bones from vibrating right out of his skin with how hard he was trembling.

"--shit. Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

He knew he had issues with things on his left now, but that horrible sensation of having the dead arm reattached was out of the blue.

“I don’t even know what happened,” Tony agreed, as if his opinion on the matter was somehow Wright and worthy of consideration. He didn’t pause in the way he stroked Bucky’s hair, but he did sit back on his haunches to give his knees a break, hauling Bucky into his arms.

He was finally starting to get hungry, but the smell of sick in the room was overpowering that urge, and almost every other urge that wasn’t the desire to flee the scene.

“We should get you cleaned up. Nothing of mine is going to fit you properly and you’re going to stretch out the shoulders on all of my shirts.” He couldn’t really be smug about it. Not when the smell of Bucky’s sweat was actually comforting, in the twisted way panic had fused it to his psyche. “JARVIS, have Ms Potts send in the cleaners. Code Drunk.”

"Yes, sir. The cleaning crew have already been alerted, and may I remind you that the second bathroom cupboards are stocked with anti-emetic medications." JARVIS was nothing if not hyper-competent, after all.

Despite this being the first time hearing JARVIS, Bucky wasn't startled. Tony had told him all about the AI that had been based on his childhood butler, and he had other things on his mind currently.

"It was the arm," he muttered, feeling like Tony deserved the truth even if it was embarrassing and more than a little pathetic. "Because I couldn't feel it, it was like-- like someone had just sewn back on the dead arm I lost."

“Okay. Good. See, now we’re working collaboratively. You need sensation. That’s going to be an interesting project.” Tony pulled Bucky up to his feet and got that good arm over his shoulders. He was sure Bucky could walk on his own, but why risk it?

The mansion was all glass corridors and wide, beautifully cut and polished floors. The furniture was minimal, looked uncomfortable, and had been designed that way.

Tony used very few rooms. He didn’t want anyone to linger anywhere else.

Bucky could seat himself on the toilet in the bathroom JARVIS had mentioned and Tony would play with the shower until he figured out how it worked. He didn’t usually bother with this one and it showed.

He wasn't even sure that sensation would make it easy to wear, but at least Tony seemed to understand that this wasn't anything against his arm per se, more just that it would be a process they both needed to figure out together.

It took a good few minutes sat on the toilet before he felt steady enough to get back to his feet and start to pull his soiled clothes off. He wasn't embarrassed by Tony being there, they had both seen much worse from each other being trapped in a damn cave for literal months. It was difficult to have shame with someone who had seen you shit in a bucket and try and bathe yourself with rainwater.

"Jesus, that wasn't fun," he snorted, quiet and not particularly convincingly. "Thanks for calling me a big baby."

“You are a big baby,” Tony snorted, hearing the crews come in to clean up the room. Pepper would be told that no one ate the salads, though, and so Tony stepped towards the door to shut and lock it. Even his assistant wouldn’t bother him in the bathroom. Probably.

The fancy subway tiles turned cool and damp from steam and the mirrors fogged up as the warm water humidified the glass. Tony’s Hair even started to look a little weighed down and his shirt stuck to his chest as he watched Bucky right up until the shower door fogged over.

Too bad. It had been a great view.

“But you’ve been since I met you. Didn’t expect you to have changed so much honestly.”

Bucky turned the water up so that it was nearly scalding, turning his skin pink wherever it touched, and just leaned into the comforting stream of water to ease the way his muscles were cramping now that the sudden shock of adrenaline had worn off.

It was weird. If this were Steve or one of the girls, he would be ashamed of what had happened and probably trying to be alone to avoid seeing looks of pity, but he didn't feel that way with Tony. Maybe because he'd talked Tony through his share of panics in that horrible place as well.

"...thanks, Tony."

He hesitated a moment.

"Hey, can I stay here tonight?"

“I thought you were gonna stay here, anyway,” Toby said honestly. “Aren’t we headed to Brooklyn tomorrow? Why would you go without me?” He lingered because he could, because they didn’t have any secrets (save for one) and because Tony was pretty sure that Bucky needed him to stay. He was glad to oblige, even if it was uncomfortable being in the bathroom while someone else was showering.

He peeled himself off of the tile and picked up fallen clothing instead, folding it not because he was anal in that particular way but because it was either that or sit on the toilet and watch Bucky scrub his balls.

“Pep can make sure that one of the guest rooms doesn’t have too many unfinished projects or dust in it.”

"I was gonna go back to the hotel, Steve's waiting for me."

He just couldn't handle leaving, though. He was exhausted from the panic attack, and the thought of stepping outside of this small bubble of safety that Tony represented, even if it was to get back to the bubble of safety that Steve represented, was more than he could handle.

"My phone's in one of my pockets, can you call Steve? Tell him where I am and not to wait up for me or worry."

He knew he should do it himself. But Steve knew him better than anyone alive, he'd know something was wrong from Bucky's voice and want to come and help out. And he wanted him there, he always wanted Steve around, but he didn't feel up to mediating between Steve and Tony tonight so it was best that Steve stay away.

Though he’d gone ahead to grab Bucky’s phone, the moment the man clarified what he wanted caused Tony to smirk and tilt his head. “You want me-- Okay. Your funeral.” It didn’t take much time at all for him to find Steve’s number and he pushed the button before Bucky had time to protest.

As expected, he was met with a hostile voice immediately: “It’s been hours—”

“Months actually,” Tony said, smoothly. “Hi. It’s Stark. Barnes is with me. I’ll send a car tomorrow to grab you before we head to New York. Elevenish, whenever check out is.” He wanted to just spit out information. Maybe Steve would back down.

Steve didn't mean to sound hostile, he was just worried out of his mind. He'd been worried out of his mind ever since they found out Bucky was alive; sure, it beat the gnawing empty grief of thinking he was dead, but it was like a constantly alive presence in his chest that made him feel like he was losing Bucky all over again.

If his friend thought that he didn't see the new tension in his shoulders, or the way he was slower to smile, or the way he watched everyone constantly when he went outside... well, Steve wasn't blind. It made his heart ache, and he was determined to be there for Bucky. Bucky had been there for him every time Steve had needed him over the years, it was more than time for him to return the favour.

And that's why Tony Stark got his back up. The man seemed too glib, like he might discard and hurt Bucky when he got bored of him. And he'd heard bad things in the press about Stark's habits, like drinking and partying - maybe even drugs - and he was scared. He knew veterans were at a risk for falling into some of those habits to cope, and he didn't want that for Bucky.

So that-- that was not what he wanted to hear.

"What? But he said he'd be back at the hotel, and why isn't he the one calling me? What's happened? Is he okay?"

Eyes rolling, Tony leaned forward with his elbow on one knee and shifted the phone to his other ear. “He’s fine, Mother Goose. He’s in the shower.” He paused for dramatic effect because yes, Bucky was in the shower. Right there. Water running and all. “We’re catching up. It’s been awhile. He’s famous now.”

So yeah, Rogers. Two famous people having conversations.

“Ordered pizza and burgers and we’re going to get a few pints of ice cream and braid each other’s hair. Rent an adult film and charge it to the room. I’ll pick up the tab tomorrow.”

See, this? This is what Steve hated about Tony already. He was genuinely worried and the man was cracking jokes like someone else's pain was nothing, like he had never heard of the word empathy.

Was he really in the room with Bucky while he was showering? Was he taking advantage of his friend in some way? He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

"I think I'm gonna come over and make sure he's okay myself, if you can't answer seriously. Jerk."

“Back off.” Tony tried it the nice way but that wasn’t going to happen. “There’s a reason he asked me to call instead of calling you himself. He wants to be here for a little while. We will come and get you tomorrow to fly you both home. Buck is as fine as anyone can reasonably expect him to be. I’m going to go now.”

He didn’t forbid Steve from coming to his home because he didn’t want to say that out loud. Bucky was listening and he hadn’t heard Steve’s end of the conversation.

Tony didn’t want to worry him, didn’t want to make him feel like he was being split apart. Maybe Steve was in love with his best friend. Maybe he was jealous. Maybe he was just genuinely worried. Either way, he needed to learn to give Bucky his space.

After months of confinement, they both needed it. Literal and figurative.

Steve was gripping the phone so hard that if he had actually possessed any strength in his hands, he'd have easily crushed it by now. Tony was so aggravating, maybe it was just being in his company that had messed with Bucky's mind overseas and not the torture.

Argh.

"Listen, why couldn't you have just said that first? In case it's escaped your notice, we're all worried about Bucky, and making stupid jokes isn't helping that. You're a real piece of work, Tony Stark."

And then Steve, having got the last word, hung up himself.

It was met with another eye roll. Children. They were all so offended by everything and anything. It was a wonder that they even made it to college anymore before disintegrating into a pile of sparkles and hashtags. He wouldn’t concern himself about that and instead, slipped Bucky’s phone into his pants again.

“He’s really growing on me,” Tony said, lifting his voice to be heard over the spray.

Like a fungus, he did not say to go with it.

“Don’t forget the rinse and repeat part of the shampoo. You have as much hair now as my last girlfriend.”

Bucky poked his head out of the spray when Tony raised his voice as if he were only just listening now, when really he had been straining his ears the whole time to make sure it wasn't going too badly. He had winced at Tony's first choice of words because he knew that wouldn't go down well with Steve, but it seemed like it hadn't finished too badly.

Probably.

Guess he'd find out when Steve either turned up like a knight in shining armour, or stayed away as Tony had asked him to do.

His hair was plastered to his head and the curve of his hip became visible through the steam where he leaned forwards with a small grateful smile, looking tired as all hell after the events of today.

"And you nag as much as my last boyfriend. Now... do you think you have anything I can put on? My clothes are kind of gross."

“Only just as much? I’ll have to change that,” Tony smirked, groaning just a little as he stood, his knees protesting. With Bucky in the shower, he stood about two inches taller than Tony himself rather than the same height, and so the older man had to lift his eyes towards him. He let a hand linger on the outside of the shower door, resting on the handle. “I insist on being the most annoying person you’ve ever known.”

Tony could have won awards based on smiles like his, the tilt of his head and the position of his body appealing.

“You can wear something of mine. It won’t fit. How are you staying so jacked up during physical therapy?” he asked, which gave him a license to run his eyes down the visible sections of Bucky’s body.

Damn.

Bucky rolled his eyes so as to ignore the way a pleasant warmth spread through his belly looking at Tony like that. Nope. He would not end up with a crush on his friend, that would just make things really fucking awkward. So he was determined to ignore everything that might point that way with a single minded determination.

He disappeared back under the stream of water so as to not have to look at Tony any more and tried to enjoy the heat for just a while longer.

"If you ask me real nice then I might tell you my secrets. But only after I've got some clothes on."

“Doesn’t that defeat the point?” You know, asking for a friend. Still, Tony backs off, slightly damp from the steam of the shower, and opens the bathroom door to an unpleasant burst of cold air. The guest bathroom at this part of the mansion was annoyingly far from his own room and he made the hike there and back again in about ten minutes. Some of that trying to figure out what Bucky could wear of his without getting the circulation cut off, but a lot of it was just dragging his feet in general, attempting to cool down.

Bucky took a lot of effort to ignore but he couldn’t let it get to him.

“You’ve got a choice of black and white and grey. I know. You’d think I’d be flashier. And I am. But you’ll never button those shirts up.”

By this time Bucky had turned off the shower and stepped out onto the smooth tiled floor, dripping everywhere. He had a towel and was drying himself off, but still not making too much of an effort to hide his modesty from Tony as he glanced at the clothes on offer to him.

"Jesus, alright. Don't you have anything oversized that you use to slob around in on an evening? I guess the black will do if you really have nothing else."

Because he's going to look and feel like some idiot wearing his kid brother's clothes.

“Slob— I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” He could offer, he thought, to help out with the drying— But that would be crazy. No. He wasn’t going to jeopardize the return of their friendship. They might have had one fake date in the hospital, but it was too important for Tony to insinuate himself into Bucky’s life in a normal way and not just try to get a guy into bed.

Tony knew how that went. He wasn’t always a one and done but the repeat offenders were never good for him.

He exhaled through his nose and pushed the clothing towards Bucky. “Finish up in here. I’m going to send Happy on a shopping trip so you don’t look like you’re trying too hard to show off how ripped you are.”

And pour himself some ice water because damn. Bucky might be an amputee but he was hot. And kind. And present. That wasn’t fair.

“And ice cream. Because I really am going to braid your hair.”

Bucky dried off as much as he could, but his skin was still slightly damp when he pulled on Tony's borrowed clothing, which didn't really help in getting it on because it stuck as well as being tight. He just about managed to pull the pants up, though his legs were bare from about three inches above his ankles and the material hugged his ass as tight as leggings would. But there was no way he could button the shirt, so he ended up leaving it open.

He padded out to where Tony had gone to give Happy orders to go on a shopping trip and gave him a tired and grateful looking smile. He felt better now, more balanced from earlier, and a bit embarrassed from it.

"No braiding, but I'll definitely take that ice cream."

“Braiding is non negotiable and price for room and board for the evening,” Tony said, not glancing over at Bucky, even when Happy made a sort of weird squeaking sound.

“See what you mean, Boss. Should be an hour in traffic. Will be right back,” Happy said, sizing Bucky up without asking him his sizes. He was paid to notice things and he was not going to ask what size Bucky wore in front of the guy that paid him, jeez!

Hands on his hips, Tony pretended that Bucky’s strange ensemble was normal and led him out into an insane, beautiful and modern kitchen with two separate stainless steel refrigerators. He popped open one to display not one, but two rows of Haagen Das pint containers.

“Got your favorite.” He has evidently been expecting his friend.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject